


Of Earthquakes, Overwatches, and the Difference Between a House and a Home

by SabbyStarlight



Series: George Eads Appreciation Week 2020! [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Earthquakes, Fluff, Found Family Feels, Gen, Hurt Mac, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22881718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyStarlight/pseuds/SabbyStarlight
Summary: Day one of George Eads Appreciation Week! Favorite Character.Jack hates earthquakes.  That's it.  That's the fic.
Series: George Eads Appreciation Week 2020! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645582
Comments: 24
Kudos: 93





	Of Earthquakes, Overwatches, and the Difference Between a House and a Home

**Author's Note:**

> Happy GEAW!!! The first prompt was favorite character, so here’s a protective papa Jack fic!

Jack's first earthquake hits only two weeks after he becomes an official resident of the state of California. 

He was terrified of the damn things and was confident enough in his masculinity to admit it, thank you very much. He was not thrilled about moving to a place where the ground could split open at any given second and swallow him whole. A disaster, sure, but it was far from natural, no matter what his know-it-all punk kid EOD tech said. 

But somewhere between their admittedly rocky first meeting and the last day of their second tour together overseas, they had redefined the meaning of the term partner and, against all odds, actually became friends. That friendship set Jack's life on a trajectory he never planned, leaving the Army, and all his prior on-the-books government jobs behind, he and Mac were recruited by the best of the best. A highly classified agency called the Department of External Services, so far up the hierarchy chain that he didn't even know it had existed until he was offered a job there, continuing his partnership and overwatch duties, just on a much bigger scale. 

Mac had been ecstatic over the opportunity, and Jack couldn't stand the thought of trusting another soul, in their universe or any other, to take care of the kid, so he signed his name on the forms right alongside Mac's, and just like that, he became a super spy overnight, though his official title was Security and Intel. Mac might have been the brains in their little duo, but Jack was smarter than people gave him credit for. Intel was short for intelligence, after all, and he was smart enough to not like the idea of moving to the earthquake capital of the world. 

But California was where the DXS headquarters were based, and it was Mac’s home, so Jack went. He and Mac touched down back in Texas, spent a week with his family at the ranch, and packed the necessities into the back of the GTO, promising the Stingray and the Shelby that he would be back for them once he had somewhere nice to keep them parked. 

He was searching through apartment listings, newspaper pages and flyers advertising open house tours spread out across the kitchen bar, despite Mac and his roommate Bozer telling him that the easiest way to find a place would be to look online when the cabinet full of coffee mugs above him began to rattle. It took him an embarrassingly long half-second to realize what was happening, why the floor beneath his barstool was moving as his neatly organized piles of papers began to shift and slide. 

“Mac!” He called, jumping up and sending the chair clattering to the floor, spinning around to find the younger man calmly getting up from his spot on the sofa, setting down his book, and walking over to the motorbike in the corner of the living room, holding it steady while the room shook around him. 

"It's fine," Mac laughed, turning to see the panicked look on Jack's face as he vaulted over the couch in his way, fully intending to drag his partner to the safety of the nearest doorframe. The shaking was over before his boots re-touched the floor. "Calm down." 

"Don't tell me to calm down," Jack's eyes scanned the room, searching for any more threats, preferably ones he could defend himself and Mac from. "That was an earthquake, Mac." 

"A little one, yeah," Mac gave a final check to the kickstand of the bike, making sure it was stable, before turning fully towards Jack, sensing that the obvious distress the older man was exuding was more than just his typical brand of overprotectiveness. “Hey,” He stepped closer, laying a hand on Jack’s tense shoulder. “Take a breath, big guy. It’s fine. That was hardly nothing, we’re good.” 

“That was an earthquake, Mac.” He said again, finding himself unable to do anything more than repeat those five words, grateful for the couch conveniently placed behind him as he collapsed onto it. 

“Just a tremor,” Mac corrected with a smile as he pushed a pile of junk to the side of the coffee table so he could sit across from Jack. “But yeah, technically, sure.” 

“Y’all feel that?” Bozer called as he walked down the hall, buttoning up his white shirt, on his way to a shift at the restaurant that evening. “Did the ground just shake a little bit while I was in the shower or did Mac fixing the water pressure when he came home really make that big of a difference?” 

“Just a small one,” Mac agreed. “You good?” 

“Fine,” Bozer shrugged. “Woah! What’s up with you, Jack?” Bozer laughed as he walked into the living room and got his first glimpse of Jack who had both feet braced firmly on the floor and his hands twisted into the leather of the couch. “You look like you just saw a ghost or something!” 

“We lived through an earthquake just now,” Jack said slowly, “And you two are acting like it was nothing.” 

“I mean,” Mac sent Bozer a knowing look and shrugged. “It kinda was? Seriously, man, everything’s fine. I doubt if that one was even enough to get a mention on the local news tonight. Probably didn’t even slow traffic down or anything.”

“Is this place even safe?” Jack looked up, worry overriding his current state of panic. “This house? It’s old, right? You said your granddad built the thing? There are codes, regulations, safety precautions to keep you safe…”

“Jack, the house is perfectly safe,” Mac rolled his eyes, clapping Jack on the knee before standing up. “It’s been here for decades. Has stayed standing through way worse quakes than that little shake earlier. We’re fine.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“As much as I would love to stay and talk this through,” Bozer grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair, sending Mac a sympathetic smirk. “I’ve got to get to work. You’re not in Texas anymore, Jack. You’re a Cali boy now. Earthquakes come with the territory! You better get used to ‘em, brother!” 

When Jack resumed his hunt for a place to live later that evening, he moved earthquake safety to the top of his list of requirements, which is how he settled, eventually, after a long search, on the apartment building he now called home. It was old, had started its life as a factory of some kind, but had been refurbished from the ground up. Everything new, up to code, the safest of the safe while still keeping some old-school charm. It could withstand, his real estate broker had assured him, any freaky, not-natural, natural disasters California decided to throw his way and he believed her. With cement pillars and steel staircases, ceilings full of hearty exposed wood beams to keep the upper floors from falling through onto his kitchen island, it wasn’t Texas, but it felt safe. 

And as unappealing as the idea of moving to LA had seemed in the beginning, Jack found himself, as the years passed, thinking of the place as home. And while they still terrified him, shook him to his very core, pun fully intended, he slowly worked out a system for dealing with the earthquakes. As often as Phoenix had them flying all over the world they missed a lot of them. And if they didn’t, his kids knew, as soon as one hit, no matter where they were or who they were with, that they had five minutes after the ground stopped trying to swallow them whole to call Jack and let him know they were safe. After that, all bets were off and he went searching. Usually, it wasn’t an issue. As close as they all were it was a rare occasion that one hit and they weren’t already together. 

Like Mac and Jack were that day, lounging on the couch in Jack’s apartment, empty pizza boxes cluttering the floor at their feet as they recharged from the week-long mission they had just returned from late the night before. 

No matter how many he lived through, the thing Jack had decided he hated the most about earthquakes was how there was no warning beforehand. They hit out of the blue, and no amount of preparation felt like enough at that moment. 

The glass panes of the curio cabinet in Jack's living room began to rattle, the sound barely noticeable over the noise of one of Jason Bourne's fight scenes. Jack had an impressively quick reaction time, but there was still a brief moment of sheer panic as his empty beer bottle on the end table started slowly shaking its way across the lacquered surface. "Quake," He grabbed Mac by the arm and started dragging him across the living room, barely making it to the safety of the doorframe leading into his bedroom as everything around them began shuddering when the earthquake truly began. 

It was a bad one. Both of them backing against the wooden doorway, hands gripping each other's forearms as they struggled to remain standing as Jack's apartment tried to shake itself apart at the seams. Things clattered from their homes on shelves and pictures that had been secured to the walls came crashing down. It only lasted seconds, but it felt like an eternity, as they always did. 

“You okay?” Jack asked once his world stopped rattling and he found his voice, running his hands up and down Mac’s arms, both of them pretending they couldn’t feel the way Jack himself was still shaking. “You’re not hurt, right? You’re good?” 

“I’m good,” Mac promised, taking a breath and letting Jack continue checking him over. “You?” 

“Fine,” Jack brushed the question off, his own safety had never been a concern. “Damn, that was a big one.” 

“Yeah, probably a four at least,” Mac agreed, running a hand through his hair and looking around the mess Jack’s living room had turned into. “Hope it didn’t break much.” 

“Naw, don’t worry about it. None of that stuff matters.” Jack didn’t even look up, patting his pockets in search of his cell phone. Mac was safe but he still had more kids to hear from before he even began to worry about anything else. 

“It’s dead,” Mac reminded him, nodding towards the nightstand in Jack’s bedroom, lamp toppled over, the shade knocked loose and having rolled towards the closet. “Remember? You had just put it on charge when we started the movie.” 

“Damn, yeah, you’re right,” Jack frowned at the device, wishing he had taken the extra few minutes to wait around on it to charge enough to turn back on. “You got your’s on you?” 

“Umm, I had it earlier,” Mac stuck his hands into the pockets of the sweatpants he had stolen from Jack’s dresser. “Right? I called for pizzas? Probably lost it down between the couch cushions, think I was half asleep when it hit.” He pulled away from Jack’s hand, which was still holding onto his shoulder. 

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” Jack called, grabbing a hold of his hand and reeling him back under the safety of the doorframe. 

“To go get my phone,” Mac broke free again. “Desi, Bozer, Riley? They’re all gonna start calling me if you don’t answer yours. We know the rules. And mine’s closer. It’ll just take a second, it’s like, ten feet away. I’ll be fine.” 

Jack had barely had time to form the thought about how those were ominous last words when the floor beneath his socked feet started shaking again, this time even stronger than before. He watched in horror as Mac froze, halfway between his destination of the couch and the protection of Jack's bedroom doorframe, eyes darting between both, weighing his options as the aftershock continued and one of the heavy wooden beams on the ceiling, the very ones Jack had once felt so confident about, trusting that they would keep everyone housed beneath them safe and secure in case of an event like the one they were currently living out, came crashing down. 

Later, his building manager would explain that the beams had served no real purpose and were purely decorative. They were much less aesthetically pleasing, Jack thought when their weight was pinning his partner to the floor and wrenching a choked scream from his throat. 

The glass doors of the hutch shattered, tinkling glass mixing with the sound of Jack calling out Mac's name in panic, throwing all caution and self-preservation instincts straight out the, somehow still-intact, window and rushing across the room to drop by Mac's side. "No no no no no," He muttered, mostly to himself, when he saw Mac's closed eyes. "C'mon, pal. Don't do this to me. Not now. Not in the middle of this. Wake up, Mac." 

He gently slapped against Mac's cheek and let out a sigh of relief heavy enough to ruffle Mac's hair when the younger man let out a pained moan. "That's it, buddy. Come back to me, that's it." 

"Jack?" Mac blinked up at him, scrunching his face up in a combination of pain and confusion that would have been adorable if their situation had been a little less dire. 

“The one and only,” Jack forced a smile as the floorboards beneath his knees fell still once more, the aftershock finally receding. Careful fingers found a knot already forming at the back of Mac’s head from when he had fallen. “Think you hit your head, pal. And that’s just the start of our problems.” 

“What’s the rest of them?” Mac asked, long lashes falling over closed eyes. 

“Huh-uh,” Jack tapped his cheek again. “You stay awake for me now.” 

“What’s the rest of our problems? I can fix ‘em. Kinda good at that.” Mac repeated the question again, frowning up past Jack, unfocused eyes unable to stay focused on one place for any length of time. “Hey, what’s wrong with your ceiling?” 

At that, Jack broke. Setting back on his heels and rubbing still-shaking hands over his face, barking out a humorless laugh. “What’s wrong with it is you decided to try wearin’ part of it as a fashion statement,” He answered finally, looking over at the broken wooden beam trapping Mac’s left leg. “Bad choice, too. Gonna get you on the worst dressed list for sure.” 

“What?” Mac tilted his head to the side, looking about fifteen years younger than he should have been and Jack finally saw the golden retriever Bozer was always teasing Mac about looking like. When Mac got a glimpse of his leg though, he paled instantly, eyes slamming shut against the pain. “Owww…”

“Oh, now it hurts?” Jack shot a frustrated glance up at his broken roof. “Course it does. Shouldn’t have looked at it I guess.” 

“Jack,” Mac’s voice, thin with pain, drew Jack’s attention back to him, his hand reaching out blindly, searching for Jack’s. “Jack it hurts.” 

“Yeah,” Jack wrapped his hand around Mac’s, wincing at how tight Mac’s grip was. “Yeah, hoss, I’m sure it does.” 

“Jack…” Mac’s plea was cut off by a yelp of pain as the floor started shaking once more, causing the heavy board to shift and grind into Mac’s leg more. 

“Damn it!” Jack threw himself over Mac, wrapping his arms around his head to protect him as best he could while they rode out the latest aftershock. “No more, you hear me!” He screamed to the universe once it was over and he sat back up. “We’re done with it. No more!” 

“Hurts. Really bad,” Mac pried his eyes open, searching for the comforting tether of Jack’s hand again, barely keeping a handle on the tears welling up. “Can you fix it? I know that’s my job but… please? Jack, it hurts.” 

Everything in Jack was hardwired to prevent Mac from hurting, to keep him safe, and he had already failed epically at one of those things today. “I’ll try, okay?” He carded his free hand through Mac’s hair and faked a smile. “I’ll try. See if I can get this hunk of wood off you, huh?”

Mac nodded and Jack gave his hand one more quick squeeze before crawling the few feet to kneel beside the beam. “We mighta got lucky, don’t think it’s bleedin’,” Jack carefully felt around as much of Mac’s leg as he could. “Pretty sure it’s broken though.” 

“Don’t feel lucky,” Mac groaned as Jack’s hand pressed against a particularly painful spot. “Feels awful.” 

“I know, I know,” Jack soothed. “If I can lift this up offa ya do you think you can scoot yourself out of the way?” 

“Jaaack,” Mac rolled his head against the floor, blonde hair fanning out against dark wood. “Fix it.” 

“Mac,” Jack ignored the plea as best he could, trying to block out the knife it sent spiking through his heart. “Buddy I need you with me on this, okay? I know you’re hurtin’ and I’m pretty sure you’ve got a concussion that’s makin’ a bad situation a whole lot worse, but it’s just the two of us here. And I can’t lift this and pull you out at the same time, much as I wish I could. You gotta work with me now, alright?” 

"Yeah," Mac nodded, wincing as the movement irritated the bump on the back of his head. “Yeah, what you need me to do?” 

“Just slide yourself back,” Jack instructed, wrapping his hands as far as they would go around the wooden beam. “Don’t have to move far, just enough that you’re in the clear when I drop this back down, okay? Just straight back, don’t roll. Don’t want you shiftin’ that leg any more than you have to. Think you can do that for me?” 

“Yeah. You think you can lift it?” Mac squinted at the piece of wood pinning him to the floor. It was huge, as many times as he had seen them safely secured on Jack’s living room ceiling he was still surprised at the sheer size of it when he was up close and personal. “By yourself?” 

Jack wanted nothing more than to offer complete confidence, but he was actively doubting his ability to do just that. “We’re gonna find out.” He sighed. “You ready?” 

Mac nodded again, bracing his elbows into position to pull himself back. 

“On three,” Jack warned, focusing on the grains of the beam in his hand, knowing better than to look over at the anxious expression on his partner’s face. “One, two, three!” He heaved, throwing his entire weight into moving the solid piece of timber. It barely felt like it shifted at all, raising barely half an inch off Mac’s leg, not nearly enough for Mac to pull himself free, but the release in pressure was enough for the pain to multiply tenfold and Mac screamed, louder than he had when it trapped him the first time, and Jack gave up. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” He held up surrendering hands. “I’m sorry. Thing ain’t goin’ nowhere, at least not until I get some help.” 

“I… was wrong,” Mac panted, reaching a shaky hand up to wipe away the tears that had finally broken free. “Moving it… way worse.” 

“Yeah,” Jack ran a hand over his hair in frustration. “We’re gonna have to wait for some help on this one, bud.” He walked over to the couch, grabbing a throw pillow and a blanket before searching between the cushions for Mac’s phone. He settled back down at Mac’s shoulder with his haul, making Mac as comfortable as he could before the phone started vibrating in his hand.

“Mac?” Bozer’s voice called from the other end. “Where the heck are you? Have you heard from Jack, he’s not answering...”

“It’s me, Boze,” Jack cut him off. “You alright? Home? Safe and sound?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” He could practically see Bozer’s face draw into a confused frown. “I’m at Leanna’s, we’re good. Riley and Desi too, they’re at Phoenix, called me when you and Mac wouldn’t answer their calls.” 

“Alright,” Jack breathed a sigh of relief as some of the tension drained from his shoulders. He only had one kid hurt, which meant he didn’t have to divide his attention. “Good, that’s good. I need you to do me a favor, man. You call Matty for me, have her send the cavalry over to my place, okay?” 

“What’s wrong?” Bozer’s panic kicked up another notch. “You alright? No, you’re fine, you’re talking. Mac’s not, is he? That’s why you’re answerin’ his phone. What happened?” 

“Take a breath, Boze,” Jack sighed. “He’s alright, just a little stuck at the moment. Took a knock to the head and I’m pretty sure his leg’s good and busted, but he’ll be fine. I just need some help gettin’ him out and over to Medical, okay?” 

“Yeah, alright,” It was clear Bozer didn’t quite believe him, but he at least had been given a task to keep him occupied. “You want us to head over your way? Maybe we can help?” 

"Naw," Jack shook his head, knowing that the last thing Mac would want would be more familiar faces witnessing his moment of weakness. "Just send help. Y'all can meet us at Phoenix Med if you want, but only if you can get there safe. Quake that big, there's probably gonna be some damage, gettin' over there could be a job in itself." 

"We'll be there," Bozer assured. "You just take care of Mac, I'll handle everything on this end. See you soon, yeah?" 

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "See you soon, Boze." He ended the call and wrapped his hand back around Mac's. "We're gonna be alright, pal, you and me. Just hang in there for me, okay? I gotcha." 

Mac squeezed Jack's hand and closed his eyes against the pain. Trusting his partner to do what he did best and keep watch. 

The rest of the day was a blur for Jack, hazy, jumbled memories that didn't quite make up a full picture of the passing of time but were enough to remind him that he was there. Holding Mac as the first responders Matty had sent rigged up a lever system to finally move the wooden beam. The ride to Phoenix with an unconscious partner in the back of an unmarked ambulance. Waiting, trying to stay strong and reassure the rest of his kids, their little family, that Mac was going to be fine when he didn't quite believe it himself. The relief of finally being allowed in Mac's room and seeing him awake, smiling, casted leg propped up on a pile of pillows. The familiar, uncomfortable chair he spent the night in at Mac's bedside because if Mac couldn't go home yet, he wasn't either. 

Riley came to pick them up the next morning, smiling from behind the wheel as Jack helped Mac into the back seat so he could stretch his leg out, placing his crutches in the floor. "All I'm sayin'," Jack continued the conversation her arrival had clearly interrupted "Is you better not get your hopes up, pal. We don't know what we're gonna find when we get there." 

"What are we finding?" Riley asked, raising an eyebrow at Mac in the rearview mirror as she pulled out of the parking lot. 

"We don't know!" Jack exclaimed. "That's the whole point. That was a bad earthquake we had yesterday. And the aftershocks were pretty rough too. Rough enough to break my damn house. There's no way Mac's didn't end up with some damage from it."

"Has Bozer not checked it out yet?" Riley frowned, shooting a concerned look over to Jack in her passenger seat. "Last night?" 

"No, it was late by the time I convinced you all to leave," Mac smiled, leaning his head back against the window, not appearing to be the slightest bit worried about what they would find when they arrived at his house. "Remember? He went back to Leanna's and then Matty called the two of them out early this morning for a job in Belize. Nobody has stopped by since but I'm sure it's fine. Always is." 

"Dude, my place is in shambles," Jack tried again. "And it's up to code, supposed to be able to withstand the worst of the worst. There's no way your's didn't suffer some breakage. Not the way it's built, balanced halfway on that hill like it is? What was your granddad thinkin' anyway? The front door's level with the ground but the back deck's ten feet up in the air on stilts. I'll be shocked if the thing's still standin'." 

"You better hope it is," Mac teased. "You're gonna need somewhere to stay while they put your apartment back together again." 

"I ain't hopin' for it," Jack amended. "I just don't want you to get your hopes up expectin' everything to be fine. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst." 

"It'll be fine," Mac assured him with a smile. "You'll see." 

Jack and Riley shared a worried look but both stayed quiet for the rest of the drive through downtown traffic and into the residential areas in the hills, passing work crews already beginning the process of repairing and rebuilding homes and roads that had been damaged the day before. Riley found herself holding her breath as she started the winding drive up Mac's road, worrying that Jack was right about the house, not just Mac, but all of their little family had come to love, wouldn't be there anymore. 

"It... It looks fine out front," Jack admitted as she pulled the car into the driveway. 

"Told ya," Mac grinned, reaching down and grabbing his crutches, waiting on Jack to open his door. "Gramps knew what he was doing." 

"Hold your horses," Jack helped him stand, keeping a steady hand on either side of his waist until he was certain that he had his balance, the concussion had left him a little wobbly. "Lemme go check it out first, alright? Before you get in there. Last thing we need is you gettin' hurt again. You've already blown through your quota of injuries for the week." 

"Go for it," Mac waved him forward towards the front door. "You're not gonna find anything though." 

“You sure you’re alright?” Riley asked with a smile once Jack had disappeared through the front door. “I’m not staying, just driving taxi today, Matty wanted me back to run surveillance, but I can stick around if you need me?” 

“I’m good,” Mac assured and she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before climbing back into the car, waiting to make sure Mac and his crutches made it safely inside before backing out of the driveway. 

And sure enough, as Jack carefully cleared every room, nothing seemed out of place. Nothing was broken or overturned, the floors felt just as strudy as they always did. Even the deck seemed untouched, a neat pyramid of logs stacked in the firepit, waiting to be lit. "I don't get it," He turned to Mac, ignoring the smirk on his partner's face. "How is it fine?" 

"I don't know what to tell you, man," Mac hopped the rest of the way out to the deck, propping his leg up on the bench he collapsed sideways on. "It's the house. I have no clue how it all works, how it's stayed standing through all it's seen, but it has." 

"Guess you were right," Jack admitted, sitting down beside Mac, bumping their shoulders together. "Your grandpa really did know what he was doin', huh? It's like he built it to protect you or somethin'. To keep you safe." 

"Not just me," Mac shook his head. "All of us. Bozer, Riley, you? It's as much your house as it is mine. Come on, Jack," He reached back and dug an elbow lightly into Jack's ribs, "You're the sentimental one here. You shouldn't have a hard time believing that he left this place to keep me safe once he was gone. He didn't know you were coming into my life, that I would have you to take care of me. So he left this place to do it once he couldn't." 

Jack smiled. “You know what? Maybe he did. There’s gotta be someone up there, pullin’ the strings. Maybe it’s been him all along.” 

“Yeah,” Mac agreed, leaning into Jack, letting him take most of his weight as he rested his head on Jack’s shoulder. “Maybe. He would’ve liked you. Gramps? Even before he found out you were willing to drop everything and move your whole life out here for me.” 

“Hey, now,” Jack teased, blinking back a sudden onslaught of tears. “What did you expect me to do? Go back to Texas knowing that the only thing you had watching your back out here in the sunshine state was this here house? Never regretted it, kid. Not for one minute. Best decision I ever made.” 

He meant it too. Sitting there on the deck, Mac safe at his side, Jack decided that it didn’t matter how safe a house was supposed to be. Nobody could predict how a house, or apartment, in his case, could withstand an earthquake. A home though, like the one Mac’s grandfather had left for him, left for them? That could weather any storm.


End file.
